At one point, a rescue boat came close enough for Aditya to spot the soldiers’ faces. Desperation overtook him, and he yelled, “Please! My grandfather is ill!” waving his arms, but their house sat slightly separate from the other homes. The boat’s engine drowned out his voice, and the soldiers didn’t hear him. They continued on, fading into the mist.
In the house, the floodwaters had risen to the top step of the staircase. Aditya and his grandfather sat in silence, listening to the rain. His grandfather’s fever had spiked again, and he was muttering about how the world was ending. Aditya had heard it all before, the stories of the great floods from his childhood, the end of days, how the rivers would reclaim the land.